


Switch

by Nievia



Series: McHanzo Week 2016 [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (I have no regrets), Battle, Blood, Body Swap, Confusion, Day 6, Escape, Gore, M/M, McHanzo Week 2016, Stormbow, Switcharoo, Talon - Freeform, Trying to impress each other, Ultimate Swap, Venom Mine, Violence, Weapons, Widowmaker's venom mine strikes again, mission, this time it's a bit different...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8982463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nievia/pseuds/Nievia
Summary: McCree carelessly walks into one of Widowmaker's venom mines, but Hanzo tries to save him. But this time, the mist inside of it has a different effect. Both men find themselves in a curious situation.Body swap fic!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!  
> This is for day 6 of McHanzo Week 2016 (the prompt was "ultimate swap").  
> I had fun writing this one but it was a bit odd trying to get the dialogue right, but I hope I did okay nonetheless!  
> Thanks for reading <3

In the heat of battle, one often failed to see mines, a dangerous habit that Jesse McCree had fallen into. He was careless, combat-rolling around corners with a flashbang at the ready and Peacekeeper raised in preparation to fire. It always gave Hanzo a heart attack, but he was good enough at cover fire to make sure McCree wouldn’t kill himself. But Hanzo didn’t see Widowmaker’s venom mine until the cowboy was almost on it.

The archer broke into a sprint and launched himself at Jesse when he was near enough, meaning to block the man’s path from the mine. “Jesse, mine!” He called. Too late he realized he had too much momentum. They were both going to be caught in Widowmaker’s web. The world moved as if in slow motion. McCree turned halfway to look at the incoming man with wide eyes. Hanzo bowled him over, his arms wrapping around his lover’s waist. Both men fell. McCree watched the venom mine on the wall next to them, colored a strange tinge of green. New poison? Neither had time to consider when the mine caught them, exploding in a deep green cloud of mist.

Jesse waited for the pain, the coughing fits, the choking and burning that came with Widowmaker’s venom. Instead there was nothing but a humming tingle in the back of his head. Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking down at… _himself_?

“What?” McCree’s voice came out accented, but not with his usual Southern Drawl. It sounded familiar. Japanese. Like _Hanzo_ was talking. He bolted upright, scrambling back as the other McCree opened his eyes.

“What is-? Are you _me_?” It was then, with the sickly mist settling around the two men, both grasped what was happening to them.

 

“Hanzo? Is that you?” McCree asked softly, leaning in close to examine the man in front of him.

Hanzo looked down at his hands for the first time and jumped, “I am… I am _you_ , Jesse?” He said rather than replying. He stared down at McCree’s metal arm (now _his_ , he supposed) and flexed it. It was an odd sensation; he couldn’t exactly _feel_ it and yet… there was a connection. He smelled of cigars and gunpowder -- a very _McCree_ scent. Peacekeeper felt heavy and foreign in his hand. “What the fuck?”

McCree would have laughed if he hadn’t heard the gunshots and remembered where he was. “Shit,” he cursed. The word sounded silly in Hanzo’s voice, considering he typically left cursing for his native tongue, but he did linger on the fact. He stood up, holding his hand out to Hanzo, ignoring how strange it felt to be helping _himself_ up. “We gotta go. Don’t think we can fight like this.”

Hanzo rose, towering over McCree while inhabiting the new body. He scowled. “Am I really that short?” He asked.

But McCree grasped his hand and they were moving before Hanzo managed to let the question out. His spurs jingled and jostled, a new weight on his feet that left him stumbling behind his boyfriend. “Where are we goin?’” Hanzo’s voice now had a distinct Southern twang and he winced. It sounded much better when it was not coming from his own lips.

“Wherever the hell Talon isn’t.” Jesse replied, out of breath. They were about to round a corner when Hanzo yanked McCree back.

“You can’t just go around the corner blind!”

Jesse huffed, “What the hell else’ll I do?”

“Use one of the sonic arrows and--” He was cut off by a group of Taln agents rounding the corner. Hanzo turned, looking for a way back but there were only more agents. They were surrounded.

“We’re so dead,” Jesse said, notching an arrow on Hanzo’s Stormbow. 

Hanzo scowled, taking off the cowboy hat and plopping it on McCree’s head. “Follow my lead,” and then he squared his shoulders, pushing back his serape, Peacekeeper heavy and cold in his hand. His eyes -- _McCree’s_ eyes -- glittered dangerously as he assessed his targets. His voice came out a low, Southern drawl when he spoke. _“It is 12 o’clock.”_ And within seconds the Talon agents were down, bullet holes in their heads just beginning to seep trickles of blood as they fell. Hanzo grinned, blowing the smoke from the tip of Peacekeeper’s barrel and ignoring the slight ring in his ears from the loud gunshots. He turned to look at McCree, feeling a bit sick being greeted with the sight of his own face staring back at him.

“You said it all wrong! It’s high noon, not 12 fucking o’clock!” But the gunslinger was smiling so he knew he did _something_ right.

More gunshots fired, behind them this time, and McCree’s smile dropped, his face turning serious. “Guess it’s my turn, eh darling?” He winked. “Watch and learn, archer.” He turned on his heel, raising the Stormbow and widening his stance as he pulled the bowstring back. His tattoo began to glow and McCree was amazed to watch the twin dragons begin to surface. He pushed back the giddy feeling in his chest, instead focusing on impressing the man behind him. _“Let the cowboy consume you!”_ The dragons flew with the arrow, the twang of the bowstring thrumming in his ear, a flash of light shocking his eyes. An odd roar was in his ears, like the dragons were somehow _closer_. 

Soon everything was disturbingly quiet, the agents downed by archer and gunslinger alike. Hanzo scoffed, breaking the silence. “‘Let the cowboy consume you?’ Really?”

McCree laughed, winking at Hanzo again. “Thought it could use more flair, is all.” He clapped the archer-turned-gunslinger on the back. “Didn’t know you could shoot like that, baby. You’re quite the deadeye, huh?”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and ignoring the flush rising on his cheeks. “You did well, yourself. I did not expect the dragons to listen to you.”

McCree hummed, strapped the Stormbow to his back, and then held out his hand. “Suppose we head on back to try and get this whole… body swap situation figured out.”

Hanzo took his hand, smirking. “Or we could try ‘n have some fun first?”

McCree laughed, squeezing his boyfriend’s fingers between his own. “Think I’m rubbing off on you, archer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Want to send a prompt? Want to support your local fanfic author? Go to my [tumblr](http://nievia-writes.tumblr.com) and hit me up! <3


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